I can't stop

I grabbed another slice of cake, it's my fourth one now.

I need to stop

I don't.

I grabbed some fruit, wanting to feel a bit better about what I'm doing.

I don't.

I ate the last two strawberries that I dipped in honey and looked at the fridge. We have ice cream...

Don't you dare grab it.

I did.

I grabbed a spoonful of the ice cream and shoved it into my mouth, trying to savor the flavor. The smooth, creamy consistency should've tasted amazing...

it didn't.

It didn't make me feel any better. I clutched the spoon.

What's wrong with me?

"You're fine," I whispered to myself, "It's okay, tomorrow's another day."

To binge.

I let go of the spoon and looked at the mess.

The dark oak table was littered with food. A small cake I got from the store was almost all eaten, the tub of vanilla ice cream I was holding was melting, the remains of some strawberry leaves was on the trashcan, and some crumbs of bread I ate was on a napkin.

How did I eat all this? How did time seem to go by so fast? I could've sworn I just came here for a banana...

"How many calories is all that?" I said to myself as I bit my nails, "cake is more than a thousand...ice cream is four hundred and..."

I stop.

My chest felt heavy, as if someone was suffocating it. It felt like a dark shadow crawled into my lungs and started squeezing them with all their might. My throat started to constrict and breathing became ragged and-

In and out

In...and out.

In

And

Out

I'm fine. I'm okay.

It sounded like a lie to my own ears.

I felt myself shake as instant regret filled me. Not only from binging, but the torment. I wasn't ready for the pain that always came with eating so much junk food. I wasn't ready to sit on the toilet for hours, trying to dispose of the food. I wasn't ready, I wasn't ready-

I rushed to the restroom and grabbed a bottle of Pepto Bismol and took some gulps of it. It tasted like sweet heaven, well, as much as pink goo can.

I prayed my stomach wouldn't feel horrible later on. I have school tomorrow, and I don't want to go another day of sleeping so late just because of stomach problems that I caused.

A ding came to my ears. My phone. I forgot about it. The Instagram notification shined on the generic Home Screen that I never bothered to change.

Lucy: Can u help me with my math homework? ur smart

Pls

I'll buy u candty

*candy

I took a deep breath as my trembling hands typed out a response.
                                                                                                            Me: Better be that chocolate I like

Lucy: bitch I'm poor as hell I can't afford that fancy cholcate
                                                                                                            Me:  Gimme some gummy worms then

Lucy: Deal

Now help me

LIKE EXPONENETS CAN HAVE FRACTIONS AS DEGREES??????

AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE EQATIONS WE GOTTA DO

I should've cracked a smile at her words, but I couldn't bring myself to. 

Me: Sure

lemme do something real quick

Lucy: Thanks luv
                                                                                                                         Me:  Weren't you just cussing at me

Lucy: Stfu

I let go of my phone as I slid down the bathroom floor. The tiles were clean, but I felt dirty.

My stomach was too full.

I needed to do something about this. Continuing like this is just a slow suicide.

Diabetes, high blood pressure, and cholesterol...

The pink bottle seemed to glow, and I felt like it was taunting me, saying-

You say you'll stop, but you'll always come back to me.

"...Your right."

.

.

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